


First Time for Everything: Nicholas

by mikes_grrl



Series: First Time [1]
Category: Hot Fuzz (2007)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-09
Updated: 2007-10-09
Packaged: 2017-10-02 07:27:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikes_grrl/pseuds/mikes_grrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nicholas’ is bad with the emotional stuff. Surprised? He certainly is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Time for Everything: Nicholas

**Author's Note:**

> This is some romantic-angsty-fluff. There is one seks scene but it is not what you think it will be, and the NA/DB pairing is quite romantic and practically chaste. Yes, really. Just read the damn thing.
> 
> Anyway, this is just one take on the NA/DB relationship; I will do others, but I wanted to explore a ‘straight’ Nicholas’ reactions to what is happening to him, good and bad. I enjoy the simpler slash stories but part of me always rebels, knowing that most ‘straight’ men who end up attracted to another man are not just going to shrug and say, “what they hey, why not?” It is my experience that men tend to invest a lot into their sexual identity, and messing with that can be hazardous (no offense, gentlemen in the audience! We love you). Anyway, I think Nicholas is open-minded about everyone but himself; he defines himself very rigidly. That’s where Danny comes in, right? He breaks Nicholas’ down. And so he does, he does…

It was if they spent every waking moment together, and some not-awake ones too. All day they were at work, and in the evenings they were at the pub and/or watching movies at Danny’s flat. Nicholas once or twice made grumbling noises about the need for them to find girlfriends, but Danny just turned up the volume on the telly and drowned him out. Nicholas just laughed about it; the past year -- with the NWA and The Shootout and the prolonged prosecution cases -- was taxing enough for four lifetimes. He figured Danny just needed time to get unwound from it all. That was fine with Nicholas, who was enjoying not suffering from the stress of being in a relationship. For some reason, for him, they were always stressful. Janine was just the last in a long string of spectacular failures for Nicholas, and he was in no hurry to rack up another one.

Every once in a while they both dozed off on Danny’s couch, leaning against each other. It seemed to Nicholas that Danny was always crunching in closer to him, and since Nicholas was feeling somewhat like a father-figure, he let the younger man encroach upon his personal space more than he would let anyone else. Once or twice he even wrapped his arm around Danny, in a friendly way, when Danny was particularly emotionally upset about the latest news concerning his father’s case. He never thought anything about it, but tonight Danny literally seemed to be trying to crawl onto his lap. Laughing, Nicholas pushed him off.

“Let a man breathe!” Nicholas shoved off to sit against the armrest. Danny frowned a bit until Nicholas laid his feet in his lap, and then they were both happy to start watching the movie again. However, the Japanese yakuza film turned out to be a supremely stupid movie, even for Danny, and they decided to start doing a shot of Irish whiskey every time a dub-over said, “Git ‘em!” They were very, very drunk in a short amount of time. Nicholas was still propped against the armrest, but he had scooted down to almost a totally horizontal position, his head on a pillow. His right leg was bent and resting against the back of the couch while his left leg splayed out over Danny’s lap. In his very intoxicated state, it felt perfectly wonderful. Danny was half-way asleep, his left arm propped up over Nicholas’ knee.

Nicholas wanted to jump out of his skin when Danny’s hand dropped unconsciously down his thigh to rest right on his groin, but he was just too drunk to react that decisively. Part of his brain even registered some pleasure from being touched in that vicinity at all, and with that thought, Nicholas finally rebelled.

“Oi! Danny!” He twitched his leg and he felt Danny’s hand jerk away to rest again up on his knee. That was all, then: just Danny falling asleep and dropping his arm into a delicate area by accident. That was fine. And Nicholas was too damn close to passing out to do anything about it anyway.

He woke up, warm and comfortable, lying in bed. It felt marvelous, except for the ringing headache. As consciousness crept up on him, Nicholas realized that it was not his bed; that he was nuzzling against someone’s arm; and that someone was Danny.

He pulled away instinctively, horror struck, staring around the room. With infinite relief he saw that they were both fully dressed. That was something. But he really, really felt the need to remember exactly how he ended up here.

“’Ey.” Danny was looking at him, barely awake, his eyes half closed and glossed with sleepiness.

“Danny, I don’t think…” Nicholas stopped, utterly and completely at a loss for words.

“Mmph. Good. No thinkin’. Com’eere.” Danny reached out and grabbed Nicholas, dragging him the few inches back into his chest, closing his eyes blissfully as he clutched Nicholas to him, as if he, Nicholas, was the cuddly monkey. Nicholas was shocked beyond reaction, and part of him did not want to fight Danny off anyway. Danny was his friend, his best friend, and Nicholas did not ever want to lose that. His head buzzed in painful consideration of how he was going to get out of this situation _without_ losing that. Right now, he was drawing a very hung-over blank.

Danny leaned towards him and kissed him on the forehead, then dropped his head back onto his pillow and in a breathtaking mico-second was snoring again. Nicholas knew that sleep was far beyond his abilities at this point, and just laid completely still as Danny curled into him contentedly. One fact stood out: Danny was warm. Very very warm. Hot, even. His heat radiated through clothes and it was relaxing, and comfortable, and for a moment Nicholas felt like curling up with Danny and going back to sleep. His eyes shot open again as he moved his arm up to wrap around Danny, and he stopped, frozen with his arm in mid-air, feeling like an idiot. Men like Nick Frost and Simon Pegg might get on snuggling together, but not Nicholas Angel and…anyone. He was not that type of man, at all. He lowered his arm back onto himself and waited.

When he decided that Danny was well and truly in a deep, oblivious sleep, Nicholas slowly worked his way out of the clutch and off the bed. It was late morning and the sun was halfway into the sky as Nicholas hit the streets. He was grateful that the night before he slipped into an old pair of running sneaks and could sprint the whole way to his own place now. Even in jeans and a ripping headache, the run helped. He decided only on one partial solution to this horrible situation: he was never going to get drunk with Danny again. He suspected that solution would not quite solve everything, though.

Danny seemed to know that something about the morning upset Nicholas. It was their day off, which Nicholas arranged on purpose, and which they often spent doing things together. Usually that meant Nicholas bullying Danny into helping him in the garden, but still, it was always a good time. Today, Danny did not call, or stop by, and Nicholas returned the favor. He did not know how to process the whole situation, but the idea that Danny was hitting on him was foremost in his thoughts. In fact, it seemed to click too well with a lot of other behaviors that Danny exhibited towards Nicholas. The possibility that Danny was gay did not upset Nicholas, although it was simply odd to think it. Back in London, Nicholas trained and worked with a number of homosexual men, and was not bothered by it. Nicholas figured as long as a person kept the peace and followed the law, then what or who they did in their free time was their own business. That attitude simply did not apply to Danny, though, because Danny was his closest, best friend and Nicholas was exactly what and who Danny was doing in his free time…so to speak. Nicholas shook his head and tried to change those words.

That night, Nicholas went by Danny’s flat. Danny was clearly glad to see him, but rather shifty and hesitant about letting him in. Finally Nicholas talked his way onto the couch were they sat, with the telly off, and no beers in front of them.

“Sorry I didn’t call, today. Got busy…” Nicholas desperately tried to think of something describing ‘busy’ that he would not include Danny in, but came up blank.

“Nick, about this morning…nothing happened, you know. You were pissed, I had to drag you into the…er, bed. I just didn’t want you up front alone, in case you got sick. Right?”

“Oh, right, of course. Right. I appreciate it.”

Danny looked around, and bit his lip. Nicholas leaned in and looked him in the face.

“Danny, if…if you’re gay, you know I don’t care. I really don’t.”

Danny groaned and looked up at the ceiling.

“I mean it, Danny! I don’t care! You’re my best friend and I don’t want that to change. Ever.” He laid a hand on Danny’s knee, trying to establish some sort of contact.

Danny looked at his hand so fiercely that Nicholas immediately withdrew it.

“Nicholas, you’re my best friend too.” He looked as if he was groping for words, then sighed heavily. “I love you.” He said it quietly as he twisted his hands together and looked out towards the kitchen.

“Danny, I…” Nicholas stopped, at a loss. He expected something dramatic, but not this.

“I know! I know. You’re not…like me. You had Janine and I see the way you look at girls at the pub, sometimes, when you been drinking. I know. I just need you to know.”

Nicholas nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“Well no, it doesn’t. I mean, I don’t want to disappoint you, you’re my best mate, so I feel, I don’t know, sad?” He said it, trying to describe his feelings. He was lousy at it, and he knew it, but Danny gave him an encouraging grin.

“And you know, I think you’ll get over me. I’m not much of a catch.”

Danny laughed and Nicholas’ world opened up again. Everything was going to be fine.

Except that it wasn’t. The following week proved unimaginably awkward for Nicholas, who spent a lot of his time trying to establish personal boundary zones with Danny and not using innuendo and snarling every time one of the Andes made a joke about ‘benders.’ He turned down several of Danny’s offers to come over and watch movies, and then really regretted doing so, but could not think of a way to take back his words without sounding lame. At work he could sense Danny’s mounting frustration but he was scared of bringing up the issue again. He genuinely did not care about Danny’s sexuality, but he really did not want it to be a part of their friendship, and figuring out how to do that was something that required more diplomatic skills than he possessed. He knew it. So he was not very surprised when Danny finally snapped.

Nicholas stopped going to the pub, trying to hold to his original goal of never getting drunk with Danny again. This meant boring nights in, but Lily was utterly in love with all the extra attention and leaf cleanings she was getting, so Nicholas at least felt like he was contributing something to the world and her happiness. He was sitting in his front room, petting her leaves, reconsidering the fact that Danny might be right about him needing a bigger television, when the door bell rang.

Danny was pissed, leaning against the door frame and breathing heavily. He was not so far drunk as to fall down, but he was definitely not in his right mind. Part of Nicholas wanted to reach out and help him, but under the circumstances he felt that would be dangerous. Nicholas knew why Danny was here, on his doorstep, drunk and mad.

“Where y’been?” Danny asked accusingly.

“Here, Danny. At home.” They studied each other for a second and Danny nodded, unhappy with the answer. “Danny, come in. You’re about to fall down.”

Danny lurched forward and Nicholas went to steady him, realizing too late that Danny was not falling, but grabbing. Danny lunged straight for him. They toppled together onto the floor, and Nicholas found himself desperately trying to escape from the last person he ever expected to attack him. He knew he could do it, of course, but Danny was large and strong and any effective move to get him off would probably hurt him too, which Nicholas refused to do, even if Danny decided to hit. He knew, instinctively, that he could not hurt Danny, even in self protection. He resigned himself to getting very badly damaged and clinched his muscles, waiting for pain.

Instead, Danny just pinned Nicholas down under him and stopped. Nicholas realized that Danny really was a heavy man, too heavy to escape easily, and when he understood how little control he had over the situation Nicholas finally started to panic.

“Stop fightin’ me!”

“Danny, get off!”

“Make me.”

“You know I can. But I don’t want to hurt you…” He looked at Danny and felt his breath, heavy with the smell of beer and strong liquor. Nicholas thought that this was the worst hostage situation, ever.

Danny said something inarticulate and then pressed down his whole weight on Nicholas, forcing the breath out of his lungs. As Nicholas tried to gasp for air, Danny leaned forward and kissed him. It was a hard, drunken, desperate kiss but Nicholas could not escape it, and tried to calm down his screaming mind enough to just not react at all.

And then it was over. Danny drew back and propped himself against the wall, his hands shaking. Slowly, breathing deeply, Nicholas drew himself up to a sitting position, crossing his feet with his elbows resting on his knees.

“Danny, I’m so sorry. I’m not…just not…attracted to you like that.”

Danny stared hard at his hands, frowning.

“I mean it’s okay, I don’t care…you’re my best friend and I love you as a friend and I don’t care if you’re gay. Please, Danny, please just understand…damnit!” Nicholas never felt so close to crying around another man since he was a child and rubbed his face until he thought skin would start coming off. He wanted to hear Danny tell him that everything was alright, that they were friends, that nothing would change.

Instead, Danny got up and stumbled out without saying a word.

The following morning was the first time in years that he seriously considered begging off from work. He wanted to avoid the whole situation with Danny, but it would be impossible to ignore it at work. Everyone would notice the change between them, the coolness of their exchanges, the fact that they were not going to eat lunch together or go to the pub together that night. Nicholas did not mind the gossip as much as he was bothered by the reason for it: losing Danny’s friendship was the most painful experience of his life. Getting stabbed in the hand was nothing compared to this.

He finally dragged himself in, late even so, and Sergeant Turner looked up him at in surprise but did not say anything.

“’Ey, Nick! Where you been?” Danny stood next to his desk, innocent and friendly and everything Nicholas loved about him. No, not loved, but adored…no, not adored…Nicholas damned himself for his lack of mental acuity. Wrong words were not going to help, here.

As he walked in, he was greeted by a round of “Mornin’, Angel” from everyone, except the Andes, who even still and forever more called him “Angle.” He did his best to answer everyone normally, in his usual professional voice, while stalking Danny.

“Er, morning, Sergeant.”

“You’re late!”

“Yes, well, I was…tired.” He squinted at Danny, who for all the world was acting as if the night before never happened. He was not acting like he was pretending it never happened, either. He was genuine. Nicholas marveled.

They worked together that morning in peace. Nicholas stomach eventually unwound about half-way and then Danny told him it was time for lunch. They forewent the pub at Danny’s request, instead going down to The Fresh Bar for something different. Nicholas did like their salads, which were more than the iceburg-lettuce-and-dressing nonsense that most people in Sandford considered salad.

“Uh, Danny…”

“Don’t say anything, Nick. I was pissed last night. Drank way too much. Don’ know what I was thinkin’. Alright?” Danny said it as if he were asking Nicholas to pass the salt.

“I just want you to know how much…how much your friendship…”

“’Ey! Y’ponce. Stop it. I know.” Danny grinned.

Nicholas smiled. Danny really was the best friend a man could have, and when he smiled like that, he was just…wonderful. Nicholas snapped his head to shake the word out.

Even so, Nicholas noticed that Danny began pulling back. It was for the best, he decided, as he waited for invitations that Danny rarely gave. They still managed to get to the pub every few nights, and once or twice a week watched a movie at Danny’s place. The first time, this was awkward, but Nicholas relaxed when he realized how much trouble Danny was taking not to sit too close, or touch him accidentally, or make suggestive jokes (which in retrospect, Nicholas realized they had done a lot). He calmed down. Things were going to be okay. A bit of a transition time for Danny, perhaps, but still, everything was going to be alright. It always was, when Danny was around.

Nicholas did feel lonely as a result of Danny efforts to give them breathing room, though. He went to the pub by himself a few times, sitting reluctantly with the Andes or more pleasantly with Doris and her date-du-jour (her dates treated Nicholas as if he were a chaperone, or her father, and it was always very funny to watch; he discovered that Doris possessed a truly sadistic mindset when it came to mentally torturing her men). He kept his eyes open for a nice looking woman who might be approachable, and even approached one or two, but nothing ever came of it, not even a one night stand.

Nearly two months into things, he finally lost his judgment and got totally pissed drinking for five hours straight with Tony and Doris and the surly Turner. They played some stupid parlor games and something else, maybe darts. Nicholas did not really care, as he walked out of the pub: he just felt blissfully oblivious to all the problems of the world right then, and he was off the next day, so he could enjoy this. He knew that it would have even been more fun with Danny around, but still, it was good night. He stopped by the department to tell the night shift Turner to make sure his car did not get towed, and then went to stumble softly home. It was a long way, he realized. Danny’s place was closer. Danny never locked his door. Danny would not mind him crashing on the couch. Danny loved him. It all made perfect sense.

Nicholas walked in silently. At that hour, he did not expect Danny to be awake, but he was wrong. As he moved into the main room, working his way around the deadly maze of boxes, he heard noises from the bedroom, as if Danny were moving furniture around. In his still-drunken haze, he thought it very funny that Danny would be redecorating at 1am in the morning, so he snuck up to look in.

Danny was leaning over the bed, his knees set against it, stark naked, moaning, while some guy Nicholas did not know fucked him from behind.

Nicholas’ brain came to a crashing halt and he did not feel drunk anymore. Both men in the bedroom had their eyes closed and were certainly distracted enough not to sense Nicholas in the doorway, watching them. The man behind Danny was young, good looking and thin, in shape, and Nicholas’ policeman mind thought he might be one of the football players from the local club. He had a death grip on Danny’s hips and was slamming himself into Danny so hard that Nicholas was amazed something wasn’t getting ripped. But no, the moans from Danny were from pleasure, intense, deeply satisfied pleasure, and Nicholas realized with gut-wrenching horror that he was watching Danny come.

“Oh god, Nick! Nick!” Danny’s back arched as he said it, gasping, and released himself into the passion. The man behind him reacted in kind, grinding into Danny in vicious delight, yelling unintelligibly. Then both were done and holding each other up, gasping, not moving much at first.

“Nick yer boyfriend, then, you lit’le cunt?” The man laughed, smacking Danny on the ass. Amazingly, Danny let out a little laugh of his own.

“Aye, no, Josh. Just a chap.”

“A chap you fancy.” Josh moved back, and Danny rolled down to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Som’tin like that.”

Nicholas had moved to the shadows of the hall, listening in, hating his life in so many ways right then. Most of all, though, he wanted to break the asshole Josh in two.

“Boys’ been missin’ you round the club, Danny.”

Nicholas’ teeth ground.

“Been busy, Josh. Anyway…”

“Yeah. ‘Nick.’ Hey, I know you, Danny. You don’t fall easy for anyone.” Josh lowered his voice and sounded kinder, but this did nothing to endear him to Nicholas.

There was a long pause and Nicholas really tried to push the image of the two men kissing out of his mind.

“Thanks for comin’ by, Josh. I really needed that.”

“Couldn’t tell, you horny cunt.” Josh laughed and Nicholas heard the distinct sounds of someone getting dressed. He was torn between finding a place to hide and clocking Josh as the prick walked out.

“This Nick you like. He straight, ain’t he?”

“I think so…yeah.”

“Damnit. I feel for ya, mate, I do. Those kind never play fair. Spend all day flirtin’ with ya and toss you over for a pair of tits.”

Nicholas waited for Danny to dispute that, but he did not, and then Nicholas was inspecting himself with a microscope. Is that what he did? Flirt with Danny? Not on purpose…but he thought that it might look that way. It might _feel_ that way to someone who cared. Nicholas went to slam his head against the wall but stopped himself right before he made any noise.

“Don’t waste yerself pinin’ for him, mate. You’re cute and sweet and hot as fuck. Get yourself a real man, ‘kay?”

“Why d’you think I called you?”

“Oi, let go! I gotta play tomorrow, can’t stay up all night. ‘Ey, call again soon, okay, love?” There was another long pause and Nicholas ground his teeth so much it hurt his jaws. Suddenly, he realized he had exactly .75 seconds to find a place to hide before Josh walked out. He was never before so grateful for the stacks of boxes placed haphazardly around the flat.

Josh left and Nicholas heard Danny move to the bathroom and start the shower. This was his moment to break for it, to get out. He stalled. He wanted to talk to Danny, to explain…but what? It was clear that Danny already knew. Danny was finding ways to work Nicholas out his system because he knew he would never have him. And soon, someday soon if this kept up, with them not watching movies together and not going to the pub together and Danny calling men over in the dead of night to fuck him senseless, Danny really wouldn’t need him anymore; wouldn’t even want him.

Nicholas gasped at how much that idea hurt. His legs went out and he fell down and he felt very drunk again.

“Ay, Josh, you still ‘ere?” Danny walked out and unerringly, like a damn scent hound, found Nicholas sitting on his ass behind boxes. He was wearing his old sweatpants and had a mischievous smile on his face, a smile Nicholas knew every well, that disappeared the moment he saw Nicholas. In its place was a look of shame, and Nicholas could read it on Danny’s face: this was one part of Danny’s life that he never, ever intended for Nicholas to know about. Ever. He did not even show any anger that Nicholas was blatantly invading his privacy and his house. Just shame. He looked away.

“How long y’been here, Nick?”

Nicholas knew there was nothing to be gained from lying, but he did not really want to admit just how much he saw. “Long enough.”

Danny kept looking at the wall. “Y’gon say anything? Josh is a popular player, Nick, it could hurt him if…if…”

“I swear to God, Danny, I would never. Never. I swear.” Nicholas was floored that Danny’s first thought was to protect this midnight trick of his. He got the idea that maybe this Josh was more important to Danny than that, and he flushed with a renewed desire to beat the damn kid to death. Then he stopped his own train of thought: what was it to him, anyway? If Danny had sex with the entire football club, what should it matter to him? The answer was “not at all,” but Nicholas felt that it did matter, and he sat on the floor, silent, completely confused.

“Y’can stay if you want, Nick.” Danny turned around and headed for his bedroom, stopping to move a heavy box out of the doorway so that he could close the door. That door had never been closed since Danny moved in, Nicholas was certain of that, and now Danny was closing it on him.

“Danny, wait! For God’s sake, wait!” Nicholas propelled himself off the floor and chased him.

“What?” Danny asked as if the whole subject was closed and they were now moving on to discuss the weather.

“Don’t do this, please.”

“Do what, Nick?” Danny looked at him and Nicholas realized he was not very sure himself.

“I mean…look, I’ve been drinking, I’m not saying this right…”

Danny stepped into him, almost to the point of their bodies touching but not quite. He lifted his hands and cupped Nicholas’ face in them, and Nicholas felt light-headed, uncertain of what was going on and a bit scared of that uncertainty.

“What y’gon do, Nick? You want me?” Danny paused. “No. You don’t, do you? So what can you do? What can you do that won’t hurt me?” Danny looked as if he was breaking apart inside, and Nicholas wanted to do anything, say anything, to stop this from happening, but he could not move. Danny breathed in, apparently steeling himself, and kissed Nicholas gently on the lips. Then he stepped back, dropped his hands, and closed the door.

Nicholas sat down on the couch. He could not bring himself to leave. He picked up the remote, hit play, and fell asleep to _Point Break_. Again.

The morning sun flooded the room. It was a familiar sensation and while he felt a touch of hangover, he wallowed where he was, tortured with the idea it would be his last night ever on that damn uncomfortable couch.

He knew it would be several hours before Danny woke up, and Nicholas was trying to figure out what would happen then. He forced himself think back to Danny and Josh. Watching them did not turn him on, he was certain of that; so, he was not attracted to men. But the feeling last night when Danny closed the door on him was that of a lover being cast out. Could he be in love with Danny and not attracted to him? That did not seem to go together. He sat up and rubbed his head. He could not decide if he should just move on, try to pretend he and Danny were just friends, or talk himself into being attracted to him…and that just was just the stupidest thing he ever thought in his life, he berated himself.

The picture of Josh on top of Danny came back to him. Yes, he got flushed thinking about it, but it was not the sex it was…he sat up straight, stunned. He was _jealous_ of Josh. That’s why he wanted to break him last night, because Josh was violating what Nicholas believed belonged to him: Danny. He owned Danny. In his heart he knew it and he believed it and he absolutely did not want to share. It was not about the sex, it was because he was madly and deeply in love with Danny. The very idea was a slap to his psyche and he could not decide whether to laugh or throw up. He stopped and tried to rethink his conclusions about the way he felt, particularly concentrating on Josh the young and lithe football player, but every conclusion ended with Nicholas beating the man to mash for touching Danny. _His_ Danny. Maybe it was just Nicholas being protective? Brotherly love?

No.

It was an answer to a question he was not ready to ask, but it was there now, and he had to face it one way or another. If he loved Danny, more powerfully and meaningfully than he ever loved any girlfriend, then the physical aspect was meaningless, because in the most important way possible it meant that Nicholas Angel was gay: He was in love with a man. He could have sex with every woman in the village but he would still be in love with Danny. Nicholas groaned, really determined to throw up at the next available moment.

The only way to escape this was to leave. Leave Danny, leave Sandford, leave everything and go back to London and pretend this never happened. Date a woman and work Danny out of his system, just as Danny was working him out of his. And then they would never see each other again.

Nicholas found himself pacing the room, not an easy task around all the boxes and haphazard furniture. He did not think he could do it, just up and leave. Too much happened to him and he was not the same Nicholas Angel who came from London a year and half ago. This place, these people, and most of all Danny meant something to him that he thought that he could not afford to lose and remain sane. Leaving, though, was the only way to handle the situation with Danny fairly. Stay, and ruin everything; leave, and lose everything. Nicholas stood still in the middle of the room, clinching his hands, breathing through his nose, thinking, knowing that the next decision he made would change his life forever, and terrified of what that decision was going to be.

He loved Danny. There was no decision to make, really. He was not leaving.

He opened his eyes and stared at the wall. What did that mean, he asked himself accusingly. Not leave? Stay? And what, fucking marry the man? He tried to control his breathing again. Maybe. The thought surprised him. He might not want Danny physically but hell they were practically an old married couple already, working in the garden and drinking at the pub and watching bad movies and bickering about cornettos and simply always doing everything together. Nicholas wanted to save that, and decided that it was exactly that he was going to save.

But Danny would want him, physically. There was no way around the issue. Danny called out Nicholas’ name when he came and there was no arguing with _that_. There was nothing to be done about it. Nicholas finally decided it did not matter, that they would have to figure something out, lovers on the side or something. If he could not give himself to Danny, he might be willing to loan Danny out to others, as long as he come home to him. That was fair, he decided. Absolutely ludicrous and another one of his stupidest ideas ever, but fair. And no, he would not be willing to do it anyway. Danny was his, and his alone. Defeated, he accepted the fact that right now, there simply was no solution to this problem.

He got up and went into Danny’s bedroom, not bothering to knock. Danny apparently was not as deeply asleep as he normally was and sat up quickly. Nicholas stood at the foot of the bed for a few moments, registering that Danny was still in his sweat pants and the sheets looked torn apart and Danny’s eyes were suspiciously red and swollen. He went to the side of the bed and began undressing down to his undershirt and boxers. When he looked over at Danny he nearly laughed at the wordless shock on his face.

He sat down on the bed and straightened out the sheets. “Get in,” he motioned for Danny to get under the sheets with him. Danny shook his head.

“This isn’t a good idea, Nicholas.” Danny’s voice was low and soft and terrified, and he refused to look at him.

“Probably not. And I cannot promise you anything, Danny.” Nicholas sat up and leaned forward on his knees. “Danny…I saw you with Josh.”

If Danny was able to throw himself in a vat of boiling lava, Nicholas was sure he would have done so.

“Danny.”

Danny just shook his head and pinched his nose.

“Danny…I can’t explain this well. But I did not like seeing that.”

“Hunh.” Danny’s eyes were clinched tight.

“No, I don’t mean it like that. I mean, I don’t want you…with anyone. At all. You…Danny, you are never going to call any of those friends again. Not if you are going to be with me.” Nicholas returned to rubbing his face, shocked at what he was saying and shocked at how much he meant it.

Danny’s eyes snapped open and he stared directly at Nicholas, who shrugged.

“Nick…you mean that?”

“I do.” Nicholas turned himself so he was facing Danny, who appeared to be thinking about running out the door in panic. “I can’t be what I’m not, Danny. I can’t tell you that I will…emm…do anything like that with you.” He coughed, uncomfortable with the strange thoughts. “I just don’t think I…anyway, I’m being honest. This is me. I cannot live without you, and I will not share you. And if you accept that, then get under the damn sheets so we can go back to sleep.”

Danny paused for a long, and to Nicholas, terrifying moment, he crawled under the sheets. It was awkward while they figured out how this was going to work, and they eventually ended up with Danny spooning around Nicholas. They started to settle in quietly, and Nicholas thought he might actually fall asleep sometime in the next week or so, especially with the heat from Danny’s body radiating next to him like a calming furnace in deep winter. But Danny leaned up and pulled Nicholas onto his back.

“Okay, but you have to _at least_ kiss me.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Deal breaker?”

“Ab-so-lutely.” Danny smiled.

“Well, okay then.” Nicholas agreed nervously. Their last kiss had done nothing for him and he was very worried about this idea, if only because he did not want to hurt Danny’s feelings by not reacting at all. His brain raced with ways to make this something at least pleasant, or tolerable, or…

Danny leaned forward and Nicholas watched, frozen in apprehension, as Danny’s lips landed on him. This was not the tortured kiss of Danny drunk and desperate but the kiss of a man lying in bed with the person he loved most in the world, and it was sweet, and it was warm, and it was marvelous. Nicholas reached out to wrap his arms around Danny to pull him close and wondered what in the hell he was so worried about. He felt like this was going to go somewhere strange, but for the moment, it felt terribly good.


End file.
